


La Vie En Rose

by Avery_Chase



Category: Agent Carter - Fandom, Angie Martinelli - Fandom, Cartinelli - Fandom, Peggy Carter - Fandom
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-14
Updated: 2015-03-07
Packaged: 2018-03-12 08:41:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 18,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3350450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Avery_Chase/pseuds/Avery_Chase
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I'm a sap. These two make sense.</p><p>Enjoyed this? Endure this one: http://archiveofourown.org/works/3586407/chapters/7908762</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

La Vie En Rose

She managed to coax Peggy out of her room, a feat that was worthy of several awards but Angie accepted the dry smirk on Peggy’s face as she slipped on a jacket, feathering her hair out over her shoulders.  
“C’mon English, you gotta do something besides listen to me ramble and go to work.” Angie teased from her perch on the edge of Peggy’s well kept bedspread. She fidgeted with the seams of the quilt following it with her fingertips, well aware that Peggy was eying her.  
“ Well?”  
“Well what?” Angie’s head snapped up, green eyes wide with innocence.  
“Are we not going to the movies?” Peggy asked.  
“You’re serious? You’re not flaking out on me?” Angie asked, eyes narrowed as she slowly stood up, giving her best suspicious scowl. “You’re not gonna get all…weird?”  
“I don’t understand what you mean.” Peggy replied, her head tilted to the side with mock curiosity. “You invited me out when I’m perfectly content with staying in and getting much needed rest.”  
“You don’t have to twist my arm…” Angie winked, heading towards the door, a spring in her step, hoping that Peggy wouldn’t back out.

 

* * *

 

Peggy hated the newsreels. She hadn’t always disliked them, they served a purpose but she preferred watching the cartoons that followed versus the casual reminder that the world was still a mess, Steve was gone and the Howling Commandos were off having all the fun. She’d adjusted enough to her new life and with Howard’s current situation, her life was not at all lacking in adventure but it wasn’t the same. There was something missing and she just couldn’t put her finger on it. The newsreels only reminded her of what she’d lost and even as she continued her work with the SSR, she hated knowing that they would never know what happened to him and as a result, the news would continue speculating the same. It was an endless cycle.

  
She always wanted to spend as much time in the lobby as possible before finding a seat but Angie insisted they find a seat. She’d snuck in sandwiches from the Automat and was quite proud of her delinquent behavior. They found pair of empty seats in the back of the theater prompting another giggle fit from Angie as she plopped into the chair, earning a chastising look from Peggy. Peggy removed her jacket, adjusting her blouse before sitting down and draping the jacket onto her lap. Settling in, both elbows shared an armrest and much to Angie’s delight, Peggy didn’t protest. Peggy’s jaw clenched as the newsreel started with its usual fanfare. Baseball highlights, news of the week, all the boys who’d fought making strides in the continued protection and safety of the United States. The final story was exactly what Peggy feared: a tribute to Captain America, encouraging men of appropriate age to continue the legacy of service and sacrifice to the country they all loved. Angie glanced to her left, studying Peggy’s face in the flickering light, her eyes shut tight, muscles tense as her left hand gripped the armrest tight. She looked like she was bracing for impact. Angie glanced between her friend and the screen before she slid her right hand over Peggy’s left, giving her a squeeze, surprised at how quickly Peggy’s hand turned and their fingers intertwined. Angie leaned over, a wave of perfume and concern washing over Peggy her breath tickling Peggy’s ear. “Hey, you’re alright, okay? You’re safe. Breathe through it…” she coaxed, summoning all her theater training to put on a brave voice, masking the fact that she was truly worried about her friend. Peggy swallowed hard, slowly opening her eyes and exhaling, her body sagging with relief. “Still with me, English?” Angie asked, moving closer to Peggy, thankful for the both of them to be concealed by darkness.

  
Peggy nodded silently, staring straight ahead, aware that she was still holding Angie’s hand and trying to come up with a good reason to let go. Angie didn’t seem to mind the contact and she didn’t want to make an already awkward situation much worse by mentioning it. They sat in silence as the cartoon started, Angie’s fingers interlocked with Peggy’s casually as could be, surprised at how delicate a grip it was, despite having seen Peggy banged up from whatever it was she had gotten herself into. She should’ve been paying attention to the screen but she found herself glancing over at Peggy, who was chewing her bottom lip, staring off at the screen. Angie found herself wondering what was going on with her mysterious friend. Her palm didn’t get clammy, her fingers didn’t feel numb and the contact didn’t feel like an obligation. The cartoon ended and the opening title for a hardboiled detective movie started, sweeping music over a title card that made Peggy snicker. She had to appreciate Angie’s sense of humor. She’d let her pick the movie and hadn’t paid attention to anything else except the welcome respite from all the espionage she’d been involved in. She told herself to turn her brain off and just watch it for what it was.

  
Angie reclined deeper into the chair, tilting her body closer toward Peggy, their shoulders touching in the dark, sending shivers down both spines. Angie’s head rested on Peggy’s shoulder, the darkness making her feel bolder than she had any right to feel. She blushed as Peggy shifted her weight, allowing her better access to her shoulder, the two of them lost in a world of spies, murder and espionage.  
Peggy shook her head as the detective ran right after the diversion, trapping himself in a room with several armed men. “He didn’t check for an exit.” She mumbled.

“What?” Angie whispered, lifting her head and whispering in Peggy’s ear.

Peggy nodded toward the screen, turning slightly to better see and speak to Angie who had curled her legs underneath her in the chair. “He ran right in, didn’t check his exits and that’s a diversion. The killer was never there.”  
“Hm. We’ll see…” Angie replied, a look of suspicion on her face as she studied Peggy’s profile before resting against her shoulder. Angie was always impressed with how stoically Peggy carried herself; it seemed like she’d taken stiff upper lip to be a true sense of pride, a badge she wore with pride. She wondered how often Peggy allowed herself the simple luxury of a quiet night off, enjoying a movie and holding hands. She glanced down at their firmly clasped hands, wondering if at this point it was just because it was comfortable sitting like this or if Peggy really just needed to feel anchored to someone. She watched the movie, admiring the outfits, the flair, the moody sets and dreamt that she was watching herself on screen, all lights camera action. She sighed contently, the screen flickering away in front of them.

  
Peggy watched with growing interest, paying closer attention to the smaller tells then the rest of the audience, the left side of her mouth quirking at the sight of the woman who’d solved a key piece of the puzzle for the detective who naturally took the credit for cracking the case. She mulled over her own situation with Howard, aware that it was dangerous to play both sides so closely; the side with loyalty to her friend who saw beyond her gender and the side that allowed her to continue work that meant the world to her. She knew the answer was within her grasp and she could see the pieces starting to fall into place but what she was having a hard time seeing was the even bigger picture was. What did Leviathan have to do with Howard and was there a connection to HYDRA in all of this? Would there be something that would bring her whole world crashing down? She drifted back to the movie as the music hit a crescendo as the detective was now face to face with the killer who naturally began to spill the details of his plan. If only it were that easy. She thought to herself, watching as Angie leaned forward, more than likely taking notes on the acting chops on screen than being engaged with the thin plot. It was endearing watching her in the dark, the way the screen cast its ghostly light across her features, eyes wide as she drank in the whole scene. She was a regular Alice tripping along Wonderland in the theater.

  
The credits began to roll as the audience began to murmur their approval or disapproval of the film. Angie leaned back in her chair, stretching out her legs, releasing Peggy’s hand casually, her hand feeling colder without the contact. “You called it English.” She said shaking her head in disbelief. “You’re a regular super sleuth.” she joked, resting her elbows on her knees, a lopsided grin on her face. “How’d you figure out it was the other guy the whole time?”  
Peggy shrugged nonchalantly as she rubbed her palms together, her right eyebrow quirked. “He made it quiet obvious midway through.”  
“I bet he did.” Angie replied with an eyeroll. “What’d you do, read his body language or something? He’s an actor, he was supposed to fool you. It’s called a misdirection.”  
“Even the best actors have tells, Angie.” Peggy said, a mischievous glint in her eyes.  
“Oh do they?”  
Peggy nodded, a warm smile on her face as Angie stretched, rather theatrically, throwing her arms over her head, wriggling her fingers while extending her limbs every which way possible. “They do. I suppose we should head back.”  
“Are you kidding? We still have a whole night ahead of us…with…uh…dinner and dancing and…drinking…” she yawned, covering her mouth with the back of her hand. “The world is our oyster.”

  
“Perhaps on another night maybe.” Peggy replied sadly, pulling her jacket form her lap and smoothly slipping it on. “Tonight, I think, we should head back.” Peggy offered a shy smile, any worry that presented itself at the top of their evening erased by the easy smile. Angie reluctantly stood up, slipping on her own jacket (with Peggy’s help) before following her out of the aisle and into the lobby.  
“Hey, so how’d you figure out that he wasn’t on the level?” Angie asked, tucking her hands into the pockets of her jacket, ambling slowly along with Peggy as they wound their way through lovers, publically displaying their affection in the sprawling lobby. “You said it was a tell?”

  
Peggy nodded, blush touching her cheeks as she squirmed under Angie’s gaze. “Everyone does something that, to the trained eye, tells that person they aren’t being entirely truthful. It’s a tell.”  
“Oh yeah? Everyone does it you said? Even actors?”

  
Peggy nodded, unconsciously holding the door open for Angie as they exited the theater. “Even actors.” Peggy replied, a roguish grin on her face. “Although, some are far more discreet than others. In the case of the gentleman in the movie, he frequently blinked when he was telling a lie.”

  
“Okay, but what if the director told him to do that?” Angie asked conspiratorially.

  
Peggy nodded again. “Right, well in the real world, he would probably do something like, tap his foot or wipe his brow…”  
“Why do you even know this stuff?” Angie asked abruptly, her eyes on the ground, following the cracks in the streets as they slowly wound their way back towards The Griffin, neither in a hurry to end the evening. “What’re they teaching you in the phone company, English?”

  
Peggy chuckled. “I may be inclined to tell you sometime.”

  
Angie snickered. “OH is that your detective tone? You need some work on that.”  
“Do I? I thought it was rather impressive considering…”

  
Angie shook her head. “You need to sound like you could kill a man with the sound of your voice.”  
“Really? What gives you the impression that I am incapable of such a feat?” Peggy asked, feigning incredulity. It felt good to have a conversation that didn’t involve her double life, better still, knowing that Angie was such a good sport and quite adept at distracting her from the bigger problems. Despite her initial reservations, she dreaded the night ending.

  
“Well, there are folks who go absolutely weak for a dame with an accent…” Angie answered helpfully, a goofy grin on her face as she playfully bumped Peggy’s shoulder, her curls dancing as she moved. Peggy couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped her lips as she bumped Angie back.

  
“Are there?” Peggy replied, heat creeping up her neck as she walked along towards home, her pace slowing down dramatically. They were practically taking baby steps down the street, The Griffin looming just a block away.

  
“Tons.” Angie said, eyebrows wiggling suggestively. “I auditioned for Macbeth, LADY MACBETH, she carries the whole thing incase you didn’t know and I poured over the whole thing and they said my accent needed work. Serious work. What’s that about, eh? We’re in New York, just turn it into something about New York and then I would be fine. They wanted accents for some reason.”

  
“Shakespeare? Really? I’d love to hear that.” Peggy said with genuine interest as they crossed the street, the building looming closer.  
“Really? Would you? I practiced a lot for it, beat it into my head til I was practically speaking iambic pentameter. I feel like I was really something.”

  
“Transcendent.” Peggy said simply.

  
“Transcendent. I like that. Transcendent…” Angie repeated dreamily. “Nice word.”

  
“I tend to be full of them.” Peggy said with a shrug, staring down at the gutter while Angie beamed radiantly next to her. “I heard you one evening, rehearsing. I couldn’t sleep and I heard you, rehearsing.” She hoped Angie couldn’t hear the lie in that. She’d scaled the side of the building and perched on the window sill, peering into her bedroom before sliding her window open and icing herself down after another knock down drag out evening. “You were quiet effective.”

  
“Really? No kidding?” Angie asked, beaming at Peggy, genuinely touched by the compliment. “Thanks Peg, that means a lot to me.”

  
Peggy nodded shyly as they crossed the street, bound for the steps of The Griffin, barely scraping in by curfew. They both avoided Ms. Fry’s look of disapproval, giggling as they bound up the stairs for their floor. They slowed as they approached Angie’s door, Peggy’s hands stuffed into the pockets of her jacket in the most unlady like manner, fingers scraping against the fabric as Angie turned on her heel, a smirk on her face. “Hey, if you’re not too tired…”

  
“Let me change, be back in a bit.” Peggy replied, her cheeks pinking as she nodded towards her own door.

  
“Swell.” Angie said, ducking her as she tucked a lock of hair behind her left ear. She turned, slipped her key into the lock and let herself in, the door the only barrier between the two of them. “See you in a jiff.”

  
Peggy wasn’t sure what to expect. Part of her wanted to change and just spend the rest of the evening in bed, following leads or sleeping but she owed Angie for what she had done for her in the movie theater and truth be told she didn’t want to be alone after that. She changed, washing her make up off and sighing as she slipped a robe on over her nightgown. Angie had been extraordinarily good to her, accepting of how dodgy she could be, defending her without prompting and always wanting to hear about her day despite both of them knowing she was lying and accepting it as the truth. Peggy did her best to avoid growing attachments to people, had lost far too much to continue the tedious act of making friends, finding it draining exchanging false pleasantries but when it came to Angela Martinelli, she found that resolve wavering. She sighed and switched off her bathroom light, took her key, tucking it into her palm before closing the door behind her.

  
She knocked softly, wincing with the action, forgetting her knuckles had been banged up earlier in the week and still hadn’t quiet healed. She brought her right hand up to her mouth, blowing on the aching joints as though it made a difference. Angie opened the door with a theatrical wave of her hand. “C’mon in.” Peggy slipped in and made her way to the bed, settling on the edge and watching Angie as she tied the belt to her robe tightly around her waist. Soft music was playing from the radio, Angie swayed to the beat, her hips drawing Peggy’s eye.

  
Peggy snorted, watching as Angie dramatically turned, her head bowed before she began to hum along to the song on the radio. Angie’s heart was pounding in her chest, much worse than any audition nerves she’d suffered as she hummed along, forgetting what it was she had intended to do by standing in front of Peggy like a fool with a song on the radio that always made her feel giddy because it was applicable to her life.

  
_Hold me close and hold me fast_  
 _The magic spell you cast_  
 _This is la vie en rose…_

  
Peggy sat still, watching Angie as she sang along, swaying alone. She avoided any scenario where dancing would happen, she didn’t like to think about the reason why and she felt that wall of resolve slowly crumbling as she Angie finally turned, her eyes closed tight as she sang along. She felt as if someone picked her up by imaginary strings and with a tentative step, she approached, closing the distance, her left arm looping around Angie’s waist, pulling her closer, their hands meeting for a slow waltz.

  
_When you press me to your heart_  
 _I’m in a world apart_  
 _A world where roses bloom_

  
Angie tucked herself closer to Peggy, both of them swaying barefoot in the dark of Angie’s room, the moonlight shining through the window as Angie continued along, resting her head on Peggy’s strong shoulder, finally opening her eyes and studying Peggy as she swayed, her eyes closed. It was as though the stars had conspired and aligned for this moment, it felt like a dream. “I really like this song.” Angie whispered, afraid to break the spell they both seemed to be under.

  
“It’s lovely.” Peggy breathed, eyes still closed, her fingers knotting into the fabric of Angie’s robe. She took a deep breath, inhaling whatever it was that made Angie smell so comforting and finding that what was happening was something she wouldn’t mind doing more often. “Thank you for the evening.”

  
“Anytime…” Angie replied, holding onto Peggy tighter than either of them thought. She felt the words still deep in her bones and held onto Peggy as though her life depended on it. “I like hanging around you.”

  
“Likewise.” Peggy replied, a shiver passing down her spine as Angie straightened up, keeping her body close as she studied Peggy’s expression, looking for her tell. Grey green eyes drank in the sight of a seemingly befuddled secretive woman still holding tight to the idea that she was convincingly covering up her feelings. Angie found herself endeared by how Peggy was doing her best to play it cool despite the way she clumsily kept up; she wasn't much of a dancer, nice legs or not.

  
_When you kiss me heaven sighs_  
 _And though I close my eyes_  
 _I see la vie en rose._

  
“What’s the matter? Cat got your tongue?” Angie teased, her body humming with proximity, making sure to keep time with the song, watching the way Peggy’s eyes nervously flitted from her own towards her lips. She swallowed, moistening her lips with her tongue before tentatively leaning forward, pressing her lips against Peggy’s. They stopped moving, stopped breathing, even the radio seemed to hold its breath as they kissed. Peggy’s hands slid along Angie’s waist as Angie’s hands delicately cupped Peggy’s face, pulling away slowly, eyes closed tight, fearing her reaction.

  
“No sooner met but they looked, no sooner looked but they loved, no sooner loved but they sighed, no sooner sighed but they asked one another the reason, no sooner knew the reason but they sought the remedy.” Peggy breathed, eyes locked onto Angie’s.

  
“As You Like It, the play about secrets. Very subtle, English.” Peggy blushed as Angie tapped the tip of her nose. “Maybe you’ll tell me your secrets.”

  
“Someday.” Peggy replied, a shy smile playing across her features, relishing how easily it came to her, standing here in the dark with Angie in her arms. “Right now, I’m quite tired.”

  
“Well, I don’t take up much room.” Angie said, nodding with her chin towards the bed. “I’d hate for the night to end…”  
“Likewise.”


	2. Five Minutes More

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I just couldn't help myself. A soft sequel

Five Minutes More – Tex Beneke and The Glenn Miller Orchestra  
There is a version by Frank Sinatra, also really good. The song was originally released in 1946 (there’s a theme!)

Angie’s eyes opened begrudgingly slowly; the lids feeling heavy and swollen as she inhaled sharply, stretching under the covers as she regained consciousness. Being up this early was a direct result of working early shifts at the Automat, ingraining itself in her sleep habits. She sighed, wriggling her toes under the covers as she snuggled into the pillow, willing the sun to disappear for another five minutes. They hadn’t gone to bed too late, spending most of it laying in the dark, listening to each other’s breathing before finally settling into their respective sides of the bed. She risked a little bit of heartbreak, reaching her hand out behind her back to Peggy, her heart fluttering when the other woman’s fingers interlaced with hers. They slept soundly, Angie’s hand firmly clasped in Peggy’s as thought it was something they’d done regularly. Somewhere in the middle of the night, they’d managed to move closer, Angie tucked right into Peggy like a spoon. She lay still, admiring the way Peggy was as chaste in her dreams as she was awake; her right arm was draped around her waist holding her close without restricting her. She listened to the sounds of the city waking up outside her window, cars and birds competing to see which one could issue the harshest sounds at seven am on a Sunday. She knew they’d need to be up early; Ms. Fry was very stern when it came to Sunday morning breakfasts and religious obligations but Angie couldn’t see herself wriggling free from the tangle of bed sheets and a particularly strong arm draped around her. She could smell breakfast wafting up through the floorboards, tendrils of flavor tingling her nostrils as she inhaled deeply.

  
Angie slowly rolled onto her back, Peggy’s arm still draped across her torso. She turned her head to the right, watching Peggy as she slept, impressed that she wasn’t slack jawed and drooling. She waited a moment, held her breath and rolled over one more time onto her right side, facing Peggy, a victorious grin on her face.

  
She studied the lines in Peggy’s face, small creases at the corners of her mouth and crinkles by her eyes. Angie was pleased that they were laugh lines rather than from frowning. She brushed her lips against Peggy’s jaw, ghosting against her skin in a way that made Angie want to wake up Peggy with kisses and tickle her just to be the source of those laugh lines. She trailed her fingertips along Peggy’s jaw, her thumb along her lower lip, wondering if it would be rude to kiss her, right here and now. They’d kissed a few times last night, each time, Angie initiating each kiss, shivering whenever Peggy would match her intensity with passion. Angie hadn’t counted on the polite woman currently spooning her to be so aggressive when it came to kissing. She waited with bated breath, risking a kiss before slipping out of bed, throwing on something decent, grabbing her purse and sneaking off to breakfast.

  
It may have just been the code that had developed with the girls, a sort of don’t ask, don’t tell policy when it came to stashing meals that made Angie particularly crafty today. She knew they wouldn’t tell on her as she picked her way along the breakfast line. They’d all dealt with the pang of hunger at some point during the day or night and even cheered each other on when someone had managed to find a way to completely disregard the rule about stashing meals. She’d been quite diligent in her padding and today was the true test of her skills. She stacked her plate with eggs, bacon, toast and potatoes, expertly slipping in fresh fruits into her bag before managing to procure two glasses of juice and carefully balance everything on one tray.

  
“Jeeze, eating for two are ya, Martinelli?” came one jibe as she turned, avoiding her usual table and trying to dash out of the dining room without more interaction.

  
“Mind your manners Hawthorne.” She shot back playfully, disappearing out of the room and quickly winding up the staircase back to her bedroom. She slipped her key into her door, hip checking it and locking it tight, still clutching the overloaded tray, thankful no one had roused suspicion and told Mrs. Fry. She placed the tray onto her dresser, letting out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. She didn’t think Peggy was going to stay the night, let alone be a gentlewoman and not press for anything more than sharing the bed. They’d spent most of the evening sleepily talking about nothing, both of them kissing when things felt like they’d ran their course. Angie tucked against Peggy’s hip, her face in the crook of her neck. It had been the best sleep she’d had in ages and as she stood at the foot of the bed, watching Peggy as she snuggled deeper into the pillow she had been sleeping on, her face buried into the material as though she was trying to drown out the world, Angie had never thought she would be happier than in this moment.

  
“I should hope that you are working on an immaculate sketch.” Peggy whispered, before smothering her face into the pillow, chuckling at Angie’s groan. She turned, eyes still closed with a smirk on her face as she spoke. “You were planning on sketching me, yes?”  
“Jeeze English, you’re awake?” Angie blurted out in surprise, jerking back a foot.

  
“Well, I found it difficult to continue sleeping with a certain someone staring at me.” Peggy replied, smacking her lips and slowly opening her eyes. She pushed herself up on her elbows, groggily looking around the room that mirrored her own, her brows knit together as her eyes adjusted to the light. “Like some old romantic I hoped you had been sketching me as I slept. I dare say I’m slightly disappointed.”  
“Did you one better, I got breakfast.” Angie replied her cheeks pinking with embarrassment as she covered her face with her hands and flopped onto the end of the bed. “Besides, I’m not all that artistically inclined.”

  
“I always thought that you were, given your theatrical gifts.”

  
Angie shrugged, a lopsided grin on her face. “Don’t believe everything you hear about theater types, English.”

  
“What should I believe?” Peggy asked, her skin tingling wherever Angie’s eyes landed.

  
She turned, peering seductively over her shoulder, doing her best to smolder like some of her Hollywood idols, her voice dropping an octave for added effect. “Believe that if I could, I would sketch you like some high falootin’ French girl.”

  
Peggy grinned. “Would you be upset if I told you that’s already happened?”

  
Angie’s jaw dropped. She imagined Peggy as chaste as a nun but based on the way she kissed, all heat and passion and the way she was looking at Angie now, eyes bright, hair tousled and just a little disheveled, she could see a seductress staring right back at her. “You’re joking.” She watched the way Peggy’s eyes lit up as a genuine smile crossed her lips. “No kidding, really?”

  
“I slept rather comfortably, thank you for asking.” Peggy replied with a smirk, effectively changing the subject, propping her head up on her arm, watching Angie. “And you?’

  
“You can’t just change the subject…” Angie replied, still stunned by Peggy’s comment despite being slightly aroused by the idea. She pictured Peggy, lying as casually as she was, the same look in her eyes, lacking some of the clothing she was wearing. Angie swallowed hard, trying her best to commit the image to memory. “Probably the best sleep I’ve had in awhile.” Angie answered honestly with a shy shrug.

  
“Good to know.” Peggy replied as she sat up, pulling her legs up towards her chest, wrapping her arms around her knees. “Did they give you trouble for that?” she nodded towards the nearly decadent feast behind Angie. Her cheeks pinked at the sight of a rose tucked on the tray; she had to have snagged it from the table before slipping back to the bedroom. The thoughtfulness made her heart flutter.

  
Angie shook her head, a defiant glint in her eye. “Nah, the girls know better.”

  
Peggy blushed, gratitude in her smile. “I do appreciate the effort.”

  
“Anytime.” Angie replied, taking the tray and placing it on the bedspread. “I don’t mind it.”

  
Angie retrieved the tray, placing it between the both of them, nervous about the pickings. “I got a little bit of everything. Eggs, bacon, potatoes…figured I’d give you a quality breakfast in bed…”

  
“Thank you Angie.” Peggy said, genuinely touched by the effort. “I’ve never had breakfast in bed.”

  
“Really?” Angie scoffed. “I thought you had…considering…”

  
“Considering what?” Peggy pressed, the grin widening as she moved forward, enjoying the way Angie blushed.

  
“You know…that…you’ve been…”

  
“I haven’t done anything unbecoming of a lady, Angie and I’m surprised you’d think such a thing.”

  
Angie rolled her eyes, leaning forward and giving Peggy a chaste kiss. She shivered as Peggy moved closer, pulling the unsuspecting waitress back into bed with her. Angie chuckled into the kiss, her hands roaming along Peggy’s hips. “You’re real continental.” She said, bumping her nose against Peggy’s. “French…didn’t know you were fluent…”

  
Peggy smiled up at Angie, still reeling with how comfortable she was with Angie, her heart telling her it was alright while her mind was screaming that every second she spent in this room, in this bed, with this woman put her in serious danger. She dreaded the idea of loss, especially when she’d found someone who accepted her, no questions asked but if staying away meant keeping Angie safe, she should do it. The problem was, she couldn’t, not after she’d been so kind to her last night. She pulled Angie close, holding her tightly, kissing her forehead, nose, chin and lingering on her lips. She lay still, listening to the city waking up, the sounds of their floor mates moving around outside and Angie’s breathing. “Thank you.” Peggy said silently, her hands drifting along Angie’s back and shoulders. “For understanding last night.”

  
“One day you’re gonna tell me what that was about. I know better than to press my luck. You don’t say much and I won’t ask for a lot.” Angie replied, pushing up in Peggy’s arms to hold her gaze. “I can wait til you’re ready to say whatever you’ve gotta say.”

  
“Thank you.”

  
“You already said that.” Angie grinned. “Sing me a new tune.”

  
Peggy lay still for a moment, studying the way Angie looked at her. She wasn’t sure if it was adoration or if it was the first stirrings of love in her eyes. It was unnerving to think that she could be falling for someone like Angie or anyone as easily as she was; she’d tried to keep a emotions in check, locked away and out of the way but there was something irresistible about Angie. She hadn’t been able to appreciate being young and without serious responsibility, now that she was with the SSR, it was still a challenge to find the joy in life but as she stared up at Angie who was staring back at her with equal intensity she just couldn’t help herself. She tipped her head up, kissing Angie again, slowly, enjoying the life she breathed into her world. When they parted, Peggy couldn’t help the shiver that crept along her spine. “I’m not much for singing, I’m afraid.”

  
“She can casually quote Shakespeare but singing is a whole other problem.” Angie snickered, stole another kiss before she pushed up out of Peggy’s grasp. “I dunno about you but I’m pretty hungry.”

  
“Famished.” Peggy agreed, suddenly missing Angie’s body molded to hers.

  
“How are you spending the day?”

  
Angie smiled as she held out a plate to Peggy. “Thought I’d just stay in…”

  
“All day? But it’s rather lovely out.”

  
“It’s the Lord’s Day and I’m feeling lazy.” Angie replied. “You know, seventh day of rest and all that.”

  
Peggy blushed, spearing eggs with her fork, aware that there was something dangling between them. “Would you mind company?”

  
Angie flashed a particularly toothy grin, toasting her fork against Peggy’s. “Not at all.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know if this is your cup of 10 cent Automat coffee, will ya?


	3. Someone To Watch Over Me

Someone To Watch Over Me

After the events of “Snafu” Peggy has to rethink a few things. Let’s say timewise, they only had Peggy for a day or two, max and Angie is dramatic so it might as well have been two centuries.

Title from Ella Fitzgerald’s “Someone to Watch Over Me”

A/N I’m super into them now and it’s spiraling out of control  
__

 

Jarvis was kind enough to wait outside the ladies room, aiding where he could with the injured agents, his eyes occasionally darting toward the door, knowing Peggy was fully capable of slipping away without anyone noticing. She was visibly rattled and only nodded when he offered his advice, trying to assuage the terrible sense of dread settling on her shoulders. She was blaming herself for what happened to Dooley, failing Howard, nearly getting Sousa killed and Thompson’s constant glare as he paced around the debris, trying to make sense of what had transpired.  
They knew Item 17 was missing and as Peggy angrily paced the halls, he was starting to see what it was that everyone admired about the young agent; she was smart, self assured, quick thinking and despite the obstacles thrown at her by her own agency, she continued to smash through them.  
Then a report came in that a movie theater had been the site of a horrific mass murder.  
Everything Peggy had tried valiantly to keep from occurring did at a great cost to the very place she’d been most loyal to. He turned again, staring at the hall, knowing that if he were to knock, she wouldn’t be in there and he hadn’t the slightest idea where she would go.

 

 

“Whattya mean an explosion?!” Angie exclaimed, the color draining from her cheeks as she turned returned to the counter, turning up the radio, mouth agape as the reporter rattled off what he knew. “Gunfire erupts in the middle of the city followed by a mysterious midair explosion from the Bell Company today. Witnesses say a man leapt from the building before exploding. The police have cordoned off the area and refusing to give any more details. The mayor is expected to speak shortly on the matter.”  
Angie’s mind raced. She’d seen Peggy carted off by the G-men, despite her best efforts to throw them off the trail. She hadn’t heard anything from her or anyone else for that matter. Dottie was gone and as far as Ms. Fry was concerned, neither were a loss; they had violated her rules and there were consequences. Angie packed everything she could find, stashing it in a box in her closet before the boys who’d carted Peggy off could come back and take any of her things for evidence. She hated it, the feeling she was rooting through her sweetheart’s room knowing that she had no idea what happened to her; she feared that everything that had transpired between them had been some kind of act. For a brief moment, she entertained leaving everything but as she cleared her dresser, her heart stopped at the sight of Peggy’s lipstick, just where she’d left it as though she were coming back from an errand. She pocketed the item and cleared the dresser before leaving. She’d spent the next days and nights fretting, watching the doors at the Automat, spilling coffee on the counter and crying into her pillow at night. Every brunette that walked in, she stared at until they made eye contact, drawing on her acting experience to mask the disappointment that it wasn’t her. She routinely checked on Peggy’s room, nudging the door open, disappointed that whatever had made it’s four walls and a roof feel like Peggy to her disappearing as time wore on. She would sit on the edge of the stripped down bed, watching the shadows shifting around in the room; they’d spent more time in Angie’s room than in Peggy’s but she still felt that they had shared a few things in this room as well.

  
She had taken to sabotaging the prospective interviews of the girls who were answering the ads placed by telling them about the strange habits of one of the tenants, making them more outlandish with each telling. She knew Peggy couldn’t come back here, but she liked the idea that she was a ghost haunting the halls; it comforted her in a strange way.

  
Her heart ached. She stared at the radio as though it would say something personally reassuring. “Angie Martinelli, your sweetheart was not harmed but we cannot confirm her whereabouts at this time. Now check in on table twelve, he’s been here for awhile.” She sighed. Wishful thinking.

  
Angie was terribly distracted the rest of her shift. Information was sparse at best, more g-men on the scene, telling everyone to get even farther back while they undoubtedly covered up what happened. She managed to work through it, knowing that she couldn’t ask the cook to turn it off, everyone silently listening to the updates with rapt attention. Whispers became conversations about communists and the Nazi sympathizers slowly crawling out of the woodwork, which lead to heated debates about just what it was the government was doing and where the hell was Captain America? The Automat was starting to empty out as people feared the worst. That meant whatever pennies she was going to make would be made up of one table and maybe someone who was fed up with all the bad news and no hamburger to enjoy.

  
“Reports are surfacing of a major gas leak in a movie theater. Police and firemen are rushing to the scene and we hope to have further details.”

  
“Jeeze. You think it’s them for real?” a man asked Angie as she absently poured him more coffee. She tried her best to keep a smile on her face as she answered. “Dunno, but I sure hope we’ve got somebody to stop it.”

  
“Well, there’s always Cap.” He replied, a false sense of optimism in his voice.

  
Angie punched out and walked back home, her mind concocting a thousand theories of her own none of them involving the whereabouts of Captain America but just was but where the hell Peggy Carter was.

* * *

 

Angie had a theater she loved to go to. It was the same one that they’d gone to on what Angie deemed to be their first date. She ran as fast as she could, aware that she was going to be drawing attention to herself as she did so, pulling the door open and finding the lobby was perfectly fine. There were dozens of movie theaters, people were dead and it alarmed her that all she wanted to do was find one person. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath before taking off for the Automat.  
She almost let out a string of swears at the sight of the empty restaurant, panting as she angrily gripped the bar to the revolving door. She checked her watch and pressed on, making her way to The Griffith.

  
Peggy should not have been as surprised as she was to have been able to easily slip into the building, she’d been able to sneak out, scale the side, hide Howard Stark in the dumbwaiter but it still shocked her to know she was capable of such a feat. Instinct kept telling her she should’ve stayed put at the office, there was a high probability that Dottie and Dr. Ivchenko would make their next move nearby but she needed to get out of there, she needed to regroup, think and to do that, she had to get to The Griffith and to Angie.  
She wove her way around the premises, visiting Angie’s usual haunts and growing increasingly anxious when it became painfully clear that she should’ve trusted her instinct and just made her way to every movie theater until she found her. She watched the doors, reading the paper and keeping her eyes on the door, hoping to catch Angie as she entered. Her heart was pounding. She couldn’t run around the entire island of Manhattan looking for Angie but she felt an ache in her legs that said she could run everywhere if it meant finding her safe and sound. Her eyes roamed the lobby for a moment more before deciding to check on her room.

  
Peggy stopped at Angie’s door, grasping the knob and twisting, hoping she kept to her strange tendency to leave it open when she was in; it always annoyed Angie when she had to knock to enter Peggy’s room. She wasn’t sure if she should be overjoyed or terrified.  
She made her way down the hall, passing her own room and approaching Dottie’s door. She looked down the hall one more time, knowing she was alone before she made quick work of the locks, knowing she would find it empty but still needing to see it for herself. She opened the door slowly, using it as a shield as it slowly swung inward. It had been meticulously cleaned; either Dottie was an expert or Ms. Fry insisted on a top to bottom scrub down once the woman left. She let out a disappointed sigh and pushed her way in, checking for trip wire, traps, hidden caches, anything that would lead Peggy to her next location or even tip the scales in their favor. She was crouched low, peering under the bed, her fingertips pressing against the floorboards hoping to find a lose board similar to the one she’d been using in her own room. She stood up, her mouth skewed with disappointment. Every hiding place Peggy found and would have used had been utilized and cleared out. She peered at the headboard, mouth drawn; there were scuffmarks on the railing. Dottie had retained the need to cuff herself to the bed at night. She ran her palms and fingers along the walls for makeshift patches or holes, hoping something had been left behind but Dottie had used her window well.

  
She backed out of the room, carefully peering her head out, checking the hall before exiting the room, closing it behind her. She made her way to her own room, palming the key Angie had made for her and slipping it into the lock. It felt strange; she had climbed out of bedroom window, hid on the ledge and escaped out of Angie’s room before confronting Dottie. It had been a strange few days. She wasn’t surprised to find that it had been cleared of her belongings but it still added to the hurt she had been subjected to while in custody. Her peers didn’t respect her at all and while she would’ve gladly have taken everything that belonged to Dottie, or whomever she was, just to have a better understanding of her, she would have felt some sympathy for her. Dottie was just like Peggy at in a frighteningly evolved way; they were women no one would notice, which made them perfect for their parts in this dangerous game. Peggy dreaded the notion of go toe to toe with Dottie, the girl they had encountered in Russia being a prime example of just how lethal and ruthless Dottie was capable of being but she needed to be stopped and Peggy was determined to be the one to finish this.  
She slowly opened her dresser drawer, opening the compartment at the center of the drawer and fishing out a box filled with photos. She stood up, cupping it close to her body before the door opened slowly and Angie’s frame filled the doorway.

  
“English?” Angie whispered, immediately closing the door and rushing towards Peggy, her arms wrapping around her shoulders, burying her face into Peggy’s neck. “Where the heck have you been? Did you know there was an explosion at the phone company?! They said a guy just…blew up…I mean…I know you weren’t there but…” she pulled back, her eyes big and watery as she stared at a befuddled looking Peggy, her hands gripping Peggy by the biceps. “Are you okay? Where were you? What happened…?”

  
Peggy leaned forward, forgetting the box, the world and everything in it, kissing Angie full on the mouth, pushing her into the nearby wall, covering her with the body. Angie’s body sagged into Peggy’s her hands tangling into her hair, pulling her closer. They had never kissed like this, all tongues and hunger, tugging at clothing they knew they shouldn’t be pulling on. Peggy pulled back enough to catch her breath, her lipstick smeared along Angie’s mouth, earning a low growl as she kissed Angie again, trying to mark her with her lips. She kissed Angie’s cheeks, her neck, her teeth grazing against Angie’s pulsepoint before she pressed their foreheads together. They stood still, catching their breath, hands moving along hips and pulling closer. She felt something rolling around in her body, a strange need to be closer and closer to this woman despite the danger. Roger Dooley, a good dedicated man had died today protecting his agents from something _she_ had done. She lost Steve, agents she’d trusted and admired died and she wanted to walk away, tell her that it was over, that this was the last time they would see each other and she was determined to mean it. Peggy was certain she was jinxed. She was perfectly capable of functioning in the world without romantic inklings, she was determined to do her job; yet, she knew that she was capable of the emotion. She was unsure if acting on it was wise. “I feared the worst…” she kissed her again, softer.

  
“Same here…” Angie replied quietly, her eyebrows knit with worry, eyes glistening with tears. “I thought I’d never see you again.”  
Even after her time in service, there was a war still raging in side of Peggy Carter. It was complex and simple, basic and intricate. A perfect balancing act where she was one thing to one person, someone to someone else and nobody to everyone all at the same time. In the interrogation room, she had let Dooley, Thompson and Sousa have it. She had been invisible to the SSR, allowing her to operate the way the case required to clear Howard Stark. She never felt equal next to the people with whom she shared the same profession. Howard respected her because Howard was a strangely progressive man, despite his Lothario behavior; she was smart and that’s all he needed to know. Steve was a kindred spirit and knew she was more than capable of anything, regardless of her gender. They had only seen one side of her; the warrior, the patriot. She felt as though that was when she was truly admired, when she was running into danger, leading the Commandos, firing weapons, diffusing bombs, decrypting codes; when she was just a soldier out on the front lines fighting for a common good.

  
As she stood there in her old room, the late afternoon sunlight making it seem to glow, sirens going off somewhere in the canyons of the city, her lives started to collide. In her arms was the one thing she couldn’t stand the thought of losing despite countless signs that she was meant to spend this life alone. The reason that couldn’t be all that true was right in front of her, watching her silently, patiently waiting for her to get out of her thoughts and come back to the moment. Angie didn’t know every facet of Peggy’s life, she didn’t know she was a spy, she was capable of speaking different languages, that she could assemble a rifle blindfolded and that she enjoyed baking. Angie didn’t admire her because of a skill, she just saw her. Peggy studied Angie’s face, noting the hollows under her eyes and felt a pang in her chest; she hadn’t been sleeping and it was starting to show. She cupped Angie’s face, gazing into her green eyes. She was wide eyed and innocent, she was young, wanted to see the world, wanted to walk the boards of Broadway; the world was waiting for Angela Martinelli and Peggy was afraid being with her was going to ruin any chance for that to happen.  
“Still with me English?” Angie breathed, her tone soft like the night at the theater. She was clinging to Peggy now, her fingers knotted in the back of Peggy’s blouse as her eyes took in the sight of the woman she’d been missing for the past few days. She looked like she’d been worse for the wear, she was still wearing the clothes she had on when they’d arrested her, looked exhausted and barely resembled the put together woman Angie admired. “Come to my place, you look like you could use a good shower, bottle of the hard stuff and a nice bed to lay in.” Peggy nodded, letting Angie slip her hand in hers, their fingers intertwining immediately.

Peggy stripped down in the bathroom, climbing into the shower and immediately stepping into the water. She was thankful the issue with boiler had been addressed the water felt incredibly comforting, her bunched muscles immediately unknotting as she rolled her head along her shoulders. She remembered to be a good guest and keep the lounging to a minimum; hot water was special commodity. She finished up and stepped out into the steamy bathroom, dressing quickly in the clothes Angie fished out for her from her stashed box of clothes and stepping out into the bedroom where she was immediately received with a possessive kiss and a small glass of bourbon. “I expect answers, eventually English, but I won’t press. Not now.” She reached for Peggy’s hand, their fingers tangling together again.  
“You deserve answers.” Peggy replied quietly, eyeing the bourbon in the glass before bringing her eyes up to meet Angie’s. “It’s only fair.”  
Angie slowly nodded. “Let me freshen up, okay?” she kissed Peggy’s cheek again, a warm thrill passing through her as Angie slipped into the still steamy bathroom, closing the door behind her with a soft click. Peggy sighed. The world was on the verge of burning to the ground while she was acting like a schoolgirl. She needed to return to the SSR offices; they had to stop whatever it was Leviathan promised to unleash through Dottie and Ivchenko.

  
Peggie anxiously downed the rest of the drink, regretting it as soon as the liquor hit her empty stomach. She grimaced, let out a gust hard breath through her nostrils as she put the glass on the night table before sitting down on the edge of the bed, her body screaming for just a moment to process everything. Her wrists were sore from the handcuffs and she wondered how long it had taken Dottie adjust to hers. She studied her wrists for a moment before the sound of the bathroom door opened and Angie emerged, her hair pulled back. She was wearing one of Peggy’s nightgowns and stood somewhat pigeon-toed in the middle of the room. Peggy felt completely overdressed in all black, still barefoot as she stood and pulled Angie closer, tilting her head up and kissing her softly, drinking in Angie the way she’d had the bourbon, the burn sweeter this time. “I don’t have much time…” she said, suddenly embarrassed that she’d downed the liquor the way she had. She worried what she was about to say would sound like drunk rambling. As though she read Peggy’s mind, Angie took the glass, washed it out in the bathroom and handed it back filled with water. She drank it down and reached for Angie’s hand, pulling her toward the bed. “I don’t work with the phone company.”  
“Figured that already.” Angie deadpanned, “Tell me something I don’t know.”

  
“I am an SSR agent.” She waited, watching the subtle change in Angie’s demeanor. The way her eyes searched Peggy’s face for the lie. “The men who came for me, I work with them. Their reason for arrest was on suspicion of treason. They connected me with the illegal distribution of stolen Stark Industries weapons and prototype devices. They were claiming that I had been collaborating with Howard Stark, helping him stage the theft to sell the weapons on the black market. I’ve also been accused of murder...” Peggy said calmly, clutching Angie’s hands in her own, grateful for how warm and soft they were. “In actuality, I have been working to prove his innocence and find who framed him.”

  
Angie’s eyes narrowed. “You’re pulling my leg right?”  
“No. I’m not.”

  
“That bourbon must’ve done a number on you. I told Addie Fraiser a bottle that big for five bucks wasn’t made of nothing good…” Angie shook her head in disbelief as she raised her left hand up to cup Peggy’s flushed right cheek. “Let me get you some more water.” She stood up, took the cup and refilled it.

  
“SSR. What’s that, like a spy or something…?” Angie handed Peggy the cup, immediately pulling her hands back and crossing her arms. “Peggy Carter, are you a spy?”

  
“Agent actually.” Peggy replied with raised a smirk before downing the water. “With the Strategic Scientific Reserve.”  
Peggy slowly nodded. “Uh huh.”

  
“The explosion as caused by a one of Howard Stark’s stolen, but recovered, weapons. It was, for lack of better wording, faulty and used against us today.” Peggy looked down, watching the water for a moment. She didn’t want to think about Roger wearing the heating vest, completely accepting of his fate. “I was under arrest and realized that the office was in danger but by then it was too late…a man died because of me. A good man.”” she shook her head, trying to shake the image of Roger running at the window. “The theater…” she shook her head, staring off at the far wall, her eyes welling with tears. “If I had been honest sooner, told them what I knew, what was happening, I could’ve saved more lives.” She finished the water aware that Angie was staring at her in surprise, raised eyebrows skyward.  
“What happened in the theater was related to Howard Stark?” Angie asked with a shiver.

  
“I suspect so. Something was stolen and I believe it was what was used.” She leaned forward, elbows braced on her knees, staring into the empty glass as though an answer would appear at the bottom. The bourbon had helped but it didn’t agree with her stomach. “It was never meant to get out, but it was stolen and from what I’ve gleaned from him, he deeply regrets ever inventing the things that were stolen.”  
Angie stopped pacing and watched the sad look on Peggy’s face. “So, you wanted answers. You wanted the truth. I’m telling you the truth.”  
Angie nodded. “Go on.”  
“I served in the War.”  
“No kidding.” Angie lowered her chin, eyes still sparkling with skepticism. “Is that why you freaked in the movie theater? All the war stuff?”  
Peggy nodded running her thumb against a bead of water that slowly made it’s way down the outside of the glass. “I’m sorry about that.”  
Angie shook her head, dismissing the apology. “With Captain America?”  
“Yes.”  
“Were you close?” Angie asked, a tinge of jealousy creeping into the question.  
“He and I…it’s complicated.” She took a sip water. “We assembled a specialized team, the Howling Commandos, they’re stationed in Europe…they’re an unorthodox group, but I enjoyed their company.”  
Angie made a mental note to ask about that later. Much later. Maybe never. She inched closer, arms still crossed, scrutinizing Peggy the way she would another actor in a scene study, hoping to find the lie in their lines. “A whole buncha guys fawning over you? Hm.” The jealousy was back again. If it weren’t for how important it was that Angie know as much as possible, Peggy would’ve taken great pleasure in that.

  
“Do you recall when I left for a few days…?”  
“You came back all banged up…” Angie replied, inching closer before finally sitting on the bed.  
“I was in Russia. With them.”  
“Doing what?”  
“Apparently discovering that our darling neighbor Dottie Underwood is a far interesting woman than we initially thought. She is a highly trained assassin. She subdued me…” With a kiss. A poisoned kiss. Peggy shuttered, her eyes landing on Angie’s lips, dreading the idea of Dottie having done something like that to Angie. “That’s how Agent’s Sousa and Thompson were able to arrest me once I left you.”  
“Otherwise you woulda given them the slip?” Angie asked hopefully, still amazed that she had helped her in a daring escape. “Is that why they think you’re working some kind of crazy angle with Stark? All that craziness?”

  
“Some of his highly classified blueprints and plans were in possession of dangerous men. I was sent over along with Agent Thompson to find the source, recover them and for myself, get to the bottom of all of this. We stumbled upon something much, much larger.”  
“Why did you decide to tell me this?” Angie asked. “Not that I mind. I guess I figured you’d have some kind of normal secret or something…”

  
“Because you deserve to know the truth and because…that explosion and the attack at the theater…is my fault.”  
“How could it be your fault if they had you in the clink?”

  
“I failed to identify Dottie, the device that killed Chief Dooley was part of items I recovered and the man that masterminded it all was the reason I was in Russia to begin with. He was the target my team and I rescued in Russia.”  
“Oh.” Angie said, taken aback. “Jeeze Peggy…” Angie stood up, folding her arms again and pacing the room, staring down at the floor as she slowly paced back and forth. Now it was starting to fall into place. The late nights, the dismissive tone, how she always managed to avoid spending too much time with her, despite their obvious chemistry. Peggy was afraid and had been lying to protect her.  
“It all fell into place and I was too late…” Peggy began, suddenly realizing she had done it; she’d done the thing that was going to keep Angie safe. She’d told her something completely insane and as a result, Angie would kick her out and tell her never to speak to her again. Maybe the truth was going to set them free and keep Angie safe.  
“You didn’t know who he was, did you? You didn’t know he was some mastermind when you rescued him?”  
“No…I did not.” Peggy admitted. “I wish I had.”  
“So then how are any of the things that happened your fault?”  
“Because I should’ve known, Angie, I should’ve trusted my instincts.”  
“You were following orders.”  
“So were the Nazis.”

  
Angie shook her head. “No, that is not the same. Howard Stark’s a friend of yours yeah? D’you think he’d just trust some dizzy dame to do his sleuthing? Peggy, You had a million things going on and enough clues to make Bogart lose his top. It sounds like you put together to get Howard out of jail or wherever he was. You can’t be expected to have the answers to everything.” Angie returned to the bed, reaching for Peggy’s hands, clasping them tightly with her own. “Peggy Carter, if that is your real name…”  
“It’s Margaret.” Peggy replied, a sad smile on her lips. “Margaret Elizabeth.”

  
Angie leaned forward, a smile on her as she extended her hand. “Angela. Nice to meet you, English.”  
Peggy couldn’t help the smile that crept across her face as she looked down at their hands. “Peggy is fine.”  
“She sure is…” Angie teased. “Listen to me, you didn’t know what was going on. You’re the smartest woman I know. You figure out movies before I can and you’re nice enough not ruin them for me. Howard trusts you and it sounds like he’s telling the truth.”  
“Oh, and what am I doing?”

  
“Sounds like you’re saving the world…”  
Peggy blushed, the sad smile returning. “I don’t feel as though I am.”  
“You’re overthinking.” Angie said simply. “You and those commandos and those agents. You do way more in a day than most people and they get to walk around all oblivious to it. I feel safe…”  
Peggy blushed.  
“For what it’s worth, it means everything that you’re being honest. That you feel like you can trust me by telling me your secrets.”  
“I think the world of you.”  
“Then.”  
“Then what?” Peggy asked.

  
“You don’t fess up something like that and to just anybody, especially someone like me. You want to protect the world, you want to keep it safe, I have it on good authority you trust someone enough to tell them something that you want to keep safe.”

  
“I don’t understand.” Peggy replied, shaking her head. “I want to protect you…you shouldn’t know these things…but I couldn’t imagine keeping something like this from you. Not anymore. I put you in danger, risked your safety because I couldn’t tell the truth…”  
Angie’s right index finger pressed up against Peggy’s lips, silencing her. “But you told me and I won’t tell a soul. I’ll keep all your secrets.” There was sadness in the statement, as though Angie knew there was a meaning behind all good things come to an end, why not this slice of happiness?

  
“That’s not why I told you.” She sighed, her shoulders slumping. “I just…I saw how Dooley became a man dedicated to the job despite having a family and…he lost his life protecting them. I don’t even know if his wife knew the kind of work he did and she will never know that although he was distant, he was a good man. Then the theater was attacked…I had to make sure you were safe. I couldn’t bare the thought of you believing me to be something that I am not.”  
“Which is?”  
“A liar.” Peggy replied simply with a sad shrug of her shoulders.  
“People lie all the time. You’re not a liar.”  
“Then what am I?”  
“Someone braver than anyone I know. You climb the sides of buildings and solve mysteries and keep everyone safe and they don’t even know it. Captain America gets all the credit but from what you’re telling me, you’re just as tough as he is. Maybe tougher.” Her thumbs ran along Peggy’s knuckles, noticing the scars and bruising that married her skin. Angie often wondered what it was Peggy got herself into, especially when she did her best not to limp on days she was off from work. She brought Peggy’s hands up to her lips, kissing the knuckles softly, feeling like a Princess Charming trying to woo Peggy. “I always wanted to do that.”  
Peggy’s cheeks flushed under the weight of Angie’s words and actions. She wasn’t critical of her actions, judgmental of her methods and most importantly; she was supportive of her choices. The war between her heart and mind slowed down, both parties ready to negotiate just because this woman said she didn’t mind.

  
“You know something, I knew you weren’t in the building, I told myself they had you in some cell somewhere…and…you were safe because you weren’t in the building. I was kinda right, I guess but I was scared. I walked back home and kept wondering if you were safe or if you were planning on busting out to find me cause you thought I was in some kind of trouble and I kept thinking maybe I could find you somehow…I was even looking for your buddy with the shoulders. He stopped coming when you were arrested. I assumed he’d been locked up too.”  
The image of Angie busting her way into a building for a jailhouse breakout was comical but touching. “His name is Mr. Edwin Jarvis. He’s Howard’s man.”  
“He’s helping you?”  
“Yes.”

  
Angie chuckled. “I bet he’s real helpful.” she said with an eyeroll, scooting closer to Peggy, their hips touching. She wanted to pull off the heavy shirt Peggy was wearing and kiss her shoulders, massage them and ease the tension that was knotting up her friend. She wanted to pull her into bed, kiss her, let her sleep safe and sound in her arms and for the briefest moment, feel the world go away. She knew she had to go, there was something dangerous out in the streets of the city, lurking and plotting. It touched Angie deeply that Peggy had risked everything to come to her. She never thought of herself as someone worth keeping tabs on. She cupped Peggy’s face in her hands, holding her very still as she spoke.

  
“Since you’re being honest, how long _have_ you been sweet on me?” her voice was just a whisper.  
“Quite some time.” Peggy replied, her eyes as big as saucers.

  
“I thought you were, especially after you threatened that hump with a fork to his whatyacallit? His brachial artery…shoulda known you were some kind of superhero or something.” Angie kissed Peggy’s temple. “If we’re going to be honest, you don’t know how nervous I was in the movie theater. Even if you hadn’t had that moment, I wanted so badly to hold your hand, or lean against you...something. You listen to me and treat me like I’m important and the way you look at me, like you’ve never seen anything else in the world.”  
“You have a good heart.”

  
“English, I’ve caught you looking at other things…” Peggy blushed, allowing Angie the freedom of kissing her again before running her lips along her jawline, her cheeks and chin. “Your telling me this means a lot but it also means you’re going to do something reckless and stupid. People start confessing things they didn’t want people to know so if something happens, they can die with a clean conscious…”  
“I don’t plan on dying, Angie.”

  
“Good. I’m not ready to lose you.” Angie leaned forward, capturing Peggy’s lips; her hands on Peggy’s shoulders, pulling at the rough fabric of the shirt Peggy wore, bringing Peggy closer to her. “Everyone has someone to watch for them, someone who will keep the light on. I don’t mind being that for you…do you mind being that for me?”

Peggy’s heart stopped. “Of course I don’t.”

“Then I’ll leave the light on.”


	4. Dream A Little Dream Of Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Still going

Dream A Little Dream of Me

HOWARD GAVE THEM A HOUSE.  
A  
HOUSE.

Doris Day-Dream A Little Dream of Me  
A/N I also couldn’t shake the tumblr prompt and whoever came up with it, thank you. It won’t be the last time I work it into something.

 

 

Two quiet knocks roused Angie from bed, leaving Peggy’s Agatha Christie novel on the nightstand before she cleared the room in four quick steps. She opened the door wide enough for Peggy to slip in before locking it tightly behind her. She braced herself against the door, eyes closed as she exhaled through clenched teeth. 

  
Angie stepped back a bit, watching as Peggy attempted to remove her blazer, grimacing with the effort. She braced her back against the door, letting out a deep breath, eyes shut tight as she straightened up, aware that Angie was holding her gingerly at the elbows.

  
“Jeeze, I’d hate to see the other guy…” she said, helping Peggy out and guiding her towards the bed.

  
“It was Dottie.” Peggy breathed, wincing as she crossed the bedroom, Angie tailing close behind her.

  
“No kidding…” Angie replied wide-eyed as she draped the blazer on the back of a nearby chair. “Did you get her?”

  
Peggy nodded, wincing as she rolled her right shoulder, taking a seat on the edge of the bed. “In a manner of speaking yes.”

  
“Whatya mean a manner of speaking?” Angie asked, immediately rushing to the bathroom to get a bottle of hydrogen peroxide and bandages. She pulled the chair over, sitting inches away from Peggy, concern etched into her features. She watched as Peggy leaned on her elbows, head bowed, wriggling her fingers. She noticed her knuckles were already bruising from the fight and had to suppress the giggle in her throat; somehow, Peggy hadn’t chipped a nail.

  
“Did you get her or am I gonna have to get used to sleeping with a gun under the pillow?”

  
“I don’t have a gun under the pillow. It’s in the nightstand.” Peggy let out a snort, her fingers brushing against Angie’s cheek. After everything that had gone on in the past few hours, she was still touched by how frank Angie could be.

  
“Is that what that is…?” Angie replied with a smirk.

  
“Oh shut up.” Angie grumbled, leaning forward and kissing Peggy. She knew she was battered and bruised and needed to take her time but all she wanted to do was wrap Peggy up in her arms and never let her go. Her fingers hovered above the buttons of Peggy’s blouse, intent on treating her injuries knowing that Peggy wouldn’t allow it. Angie hesitantly pulled away, watching Peggy’s reaction as she unfastened one button; she tried to mask her pleasure as Peggy ignored the open button. Angie’s eyes roamed the visible patch of exposed skin, noticing that Peggy seemed to have flawless skin despite the bruising she could see forming just under her left collarbone. “I heard they tried to assassinate Howard Stark.”

  
“That is correct.”

  
“He’s not dead so mission accomplished?”

  
“Your level of concern is staggering.”

  
“Well…you’re here and the gals aren’t in the halls crying themselves inside out so it’s safe to say…” Angie shrugged, opening the bottle of peroxide and dipping the rag into the liquid. “I’m glad he’s safe but, to be honest, I’m much happier you’re safe. Ecstatic actually.” Peggy blushed, grimacing as Angie took Peggy’s right hand, dabbing at the cuts with peroxide. “You ran off and I just didn’t know what to expect. Didn’t get much sleep either. I wound up at work, listening to the radio, I heard about what happened to Howard and I just didn’t know what to think. They were looking everywhere and I hadn’t heard anything.” Angie blew on Peggy’s gently blew on knuckles. “The talk was light, nothing too wild, you know how Ms. Fry is. I came up here, listening to the radio all night, reading and just waiting. Here it is, morning and I’m patching you up.”  
Peggy’s heart fluttered in her chest as she watched Angie working on her hands. She didn’t deserve this, not for two nights in a row. She hadn’t asked Angie to become her nurse or to lose sleep over her. She watched Angie as she pat down the cuts with a fresh piece of gauze. “I came here for you.” Peggy replied, cupping Angie’s hands with her own as she looked up.

  
“Should I be worried?” Angie’s eyes snapped to meet Peggy’s, concern coloring her face. She scooted closer, their knees touching, the contact electric.

  
“Not at all.”

  
“Then what’s with the cloak and dagger routine?” Angie asked, pleased she’d learned something from reading Peggy’s books.

  
Peggy chuckled. “You’ve been enjoying my library I see.” She kissed the backs of Angie’s hands. “We’ve been compromised here. As much fun as I have doing so, I can’t keep sneaking into your bedroom at night to patch myself up and sneak off again before Ms. Fry finds me.”

  
“Aw and here I was thinking it was the most romantic thing anyone’s done for me.”

  
Peggy’s face lit up with a smile. “I may be able to offer something far more romantic.”

  
Angie’s eyes grew wide as saucers, studying Peggy in the lamplight with intent. “I’m listening.”

  
Her body protested the movement, muscles groaning as she pulled Angie towards her, scooting over to make room on the bed for her. She did her best to not grimace as she shifted to her right to face Angie. “Howard has a proposition for me.”

  
“Oh?”

  
“Prior to my moving here, he offered his apartment to me.”

  
“Howard Stark offered his apartment to you.” Angie replied flatly, her right eyebrow raised in question. “No strings. Nothing. Then why’d you wind up here?”

  
“I had a much better offer from a very kind Brooklyn girl.”

“Flattery.” Angie grinned, nudging Peggy’s shoulder gingerly. “Go on.”

  
“He’s offered it again.”

  
“For saving his life…?” Angie asked, her fingers knotting tighter around Peggy’s “Well…what’re you gonna do?”

  
Peggy looked down at their hands; hers battered and bruised from fights, Angie’s chapped from work. They were two women from opposite worlds but still managed to see beyond their differences, meeting in the middle in a way that two people who accept things without argument can. Peggy hadn’t been sure where things were going and after she’d spent that harrowing time on the radio with Howard, talking him out of Fennhoff’s trance, everything in her personal life began to click into place. She fought Leviathan agents, HYDRA, countless low-level thugs, not to mention recovered Zodiac on her own; things that required some kind of superhuman bravery and she hadn’t batted a carefully sculpted eyelash. She loved Steve and never had the courage to tell him, Howard’s words ringing true in her mind. He was the best thing. She’d loved him and it was okay to move on. What she was about to do, the step she was about to take, terrified her even more than the night they’d spent together after the movies. She looked up, the corner of her mouth quirked into a shy grin. “I’d like you to come with me.”

  
Angie’s jaw dropped. “Are you kidding me??” Angie was taken aback. “Of course I will.” She threw her arms around Peggy earning a yelp of surprise as Peggy’s entire body was covered in bruises. “Aw jeeze…I’m sorry…I’m sorry…” Angie apologized, pulling away immediately, eyes wide in horror. “I completely…”

  
“It’s alright…” Peggy replied, pulling Angie back in for a hug, gingerly wrapping her arms around her neck instead of her midsection. “I’ve had much worse…”

  
Angie kissed Peggy’s pulsepoint. “I don’t like thinking about that.”  
Peggy nodded into the crook of Angie’s neck. “Don’t fancy it myself but…I’ve gotten used to it.”

  
Angie pulled away, watching the way Peggy winced with each movement. “Well, I’m here and I don’t have to be at work for a bit…I’ll start the bath for you, okay?”  
“Any excuse to take my clothes off…”

 

 

Angie snuck downstairs for breakfast while Peggy soaked in the tub. It took Peggy ten minutes to convince her that she would be just fine she needed worry but she could hear Angie pacing behind the door, debating whether she should leave her in alone. “Angie. I’ve been shot at, nearly stabbed and jumped from burning buildings onto moving vehicles, I can handle a soak in the tub.”  
Angie stopped pacing right in front of the closed bathroom door. “Fine. I’ll be back in two shakes…”

  
“I’ll still be in here…pruning…” Peggy replied with a smirk stretching as much as she could in the hot bath.

  
True to her word, Angie was back in two minutes with a tray loaded with everything she could get her hands on. Peggy had dozed off for a moment when she heard Angie through the door. “English, you still on this Earth?”

  
Peggy chuckled. “Yes Angie…”  
“Take your time but…the breakfast is gonna get cold…and don’t forget the concealer, I wanna make sure that face of yours is presentable.”  
“My face is just fine.”

  
“Sure is…” Angie shot back.

  
Peggy chuckled again sitting up slowly, her muscles feeling better. Ordinarily she would’ve sat in an ice bath but she just couldn’t tolerate that at the moment. She stood, reaching for the towel and drying herself off. She studied her reflection in the mirror, eyes roaming the map of bruises left on her back and abdomen from the blows Dottie dealt. She shook her head and reached for the bandages Angie had prepped on the small vanity. She gingerly wrapped herself up, grimacing as the bandage tightened around her midsection. She knew Angie wanted to do it, it appealed to her nurturing nature but Peggy had performed surgery on herself once and that was a picnic compared to what she was doing now. She would never ask Angie to bandage her up, stitch her up or even treat her; she didn’t want their worlds to collide in that way. Angie was someone outside of work who was being dragged into work and while she appreciated her, she was still afraid of it all coming apart. Peggy dressed slowly, careful to not move to quickly as she stepped into her slip followed by her dress. She opened the bathroom door and stepped out slowly, her bare feet chilled by the hardwood floor.

  
“She lives…” Angie beamed, her head cocked to the side, a cup of coffee in her hand. “You look a helluva lot better.” She handed the mug over to Peggy who took it appreciatively.

  
“Thank you.” Peggy replied, taking a slow sip, savoring the still hot liquid on her tongue. “Much better.”

  
“Let’s take a look at your face…” said Angie, reaching for Peggy’s free hand, her fingers immediately intertwining with Peggy’s and guiding her to the small armchair. It was becoming a habit of sorts. Angie had become accustomed to making sure Peggy’s make up was spot on, convincing enough to cover the bruising but light enough to come off as casual as the day they met. Angie grinned at Peggy as she sat on the edge of the bed, studying Peggy’s features, the ghost of a smile on her face. “Forget what I said about your legs, your face…” she sighed dreamily, her fingertips trailing along Peggy’s jawline. “You’re something else, English.”

  
“Flattery.” Peggy smirked, eyes fluttering from the contact. “I was promised breakfast.”

  
“Jeeze, I’m not even at work and you’re bossing me around…”

  
“You offered and I’m perfectly capable of getting breakfast on my own.” Peggy joked, taking another sip of coffee, masking her grin behind the mug.  
“You’re the one who said she didn’t want Fry catching her in the commons…” Angie teased, doling out pancakes and bacon, a grin on her face.  
“I thought you stealing food for me was your idea of being romantic…” Angie replied, still grinning as Angie handed the plate over to her.  
“You’re lucky I’m sweet on you English, otherwise…”

  
“Otherwise what?”  
Angie shrugged. “I got nothing.” She plopped back onto the edge of the bed, cutting into her pancakes with her fork, the smile never leaving her face as Peggy’s right foot toyed with her calf. “You playin’ footsie with me?”

  
Peggy shrugged, enjoying her pancakes as she watched Angie, her cheeks pinking with the attention. “Is that something that’s done?”  
“Don’t play dumb…” Angie replied, shaking her forkful of pancake at Peggy. She held Peggy’s gaze for a moment, her cheeks scarlet with embarrassment. “What’re you looking at?” she asked.

  
“You.” Peggy answered simply, enjoying her pancakes as she ran her foot along Angie’s calf. “Mr. Shoulders will be around to collect you today as soon as I take my leave from work.”

  
“Mr. Jarvis?”  
“You remembered his name?”

  
“Well, yeah, it’s rude to call him Mr. Shoulders since I know his name and relation to you.” Angie replied matter of factly.

  
Peggy couldn’t help but chuckle as she shook her head. “Just make sure you’ve taken care of everything here. Close out whatever balances you have with Ms. Fry…”

  
“Couldn’t Howard take care of that?”

  
Peggy made a face as she bit into a piece of bacon. “He may have already taken care of that but I don’t wish to give him any more sense of know it all-ness.”

  
“That’s not even a word.”

  
“You understand my meaning.”

  
“Still.” Angie groused, playfully cupping Peggy’s calf with a free hand and giving her a squeeze. “You fancy types always know the right word for things.”

  
“I’m sure Mr. Stark will do what he feels needs to be done…”

  
“You sound upset by that.” Angie replied, smearing her pancakes along whatever remained of her syrup and butter.  
Peggy gave a non-committal shrug. “I’ve never really approved of things being solved by money.”

  
Angie smirked, doing her best to keep her mouth closed as she spoke. “Because you and talkin fists have better outcomes.”  
Peggy gave her a lopsided smile. “I have rarely had a poor one, although, I’d prefer diplomacy to fights…”  
“Cause you know you’ll win.”

  
“Perhaps.” Peggy grinned again. “You will be ready by three, yes?”  
“Don’t get your knickers in a twist, I’ll be ready.”

 

 

Her heart stopped the minute their eyes met; she knew she was a goner. “It’s a bit far from the theater district.”  
“I’ll live with it. You got a phone? I have to call my mother.”

  
“There’s a phone in every room.” Jarvis replied.

  
“Oh my God are you kiddin me!?” Angie blurted out, immediately turning and darting out into the next room in search of a phone.  
Peggy lost sight of Angie as she ran off to explore the house. She gave Jarvis a tightlipped smile, grateful to his understanding and sighed. She stared at the room, shaking her head with disbelief. Howard had been far too kind with this gesture and while he knew that it wouldn’t make up for everything, it was a start.

  
Jarvis had risked Howard’s trust handing her that vial in the foyer of the apartment she was now sharing with Angie. Howard’s sense of generosity coupled with the vial she held between her fingers brought on an overwhelming sense of completion and joy. She knew she needed to tell Angie she was going to step out but she didn’t want to interrupt her joyous exploration of their new home. Home. She slipped out quietly and walked towards the bridge, her fingers wrapped tightly around the vial.

  
She kept it clutched in her palm as she walked the Brooklyn Bridge, doing her best to keep herself together as she contemplated the past few weeks. Dottie was out there somewhere, just a small piece in a massive puzzle that had yet to create a full image. Thompson was now the chief and would no doubt continue to be disingenuous to their superiors; the fact that she had information on him that could sabotage his career didn’t faze him and she wasn’t the type to use gossip as leverage. Sousa, he was kind and meant well but he was too persistent and after the interrogation and his dogged search to find her, she wanted to keep as far a distance as possible. The SSR wasn’t what it started out as, with good intentions and capable people, it was changing, transforming into something else, something she couldn’t quite decipher and while Howard was in Washington negotiating his contracts and trying to buy back pieces of his soul, she was standing on the bridge in her adopted city, hoping to make sense of what her life was becoming.

  
She made amends last night with her past, resolving to let it all go and accept the things that were now set in stone; Steve was gone, her time at the SSR was surely running to its end and she had no idea what to expect come Monday morning. A different kind of war was on the horizon. It would have the same strategy and planning as any war but this one would be in the shadows, behind closed doors, in plain sight and with much higher stakes. This war didn’t involve as many bullets and casualties but they were expected, anticipated and Peggy was ready for whatever shadowy figure loomed in the distance. There was a reason she had chosen this life and there was a purpose for everything that had happened. In order for her to move forward, she would have to honor and protect the past. She pulled her had out of her coat pocket, still clutching the vial, glass warm from her grip, carefully uncapping it, steeling her heart as she poured the last remaining sample of Captain Steve Rodgers’ blood into the East River.  
“Goodbye my darling.”

 

She stopped in the deli and picked up a few staples. Knowing Howard, he only kept stock in fresh linens and booze. As she made her way back to the building she was now calling home, she felt her heart rate pick up. This was home. Home with Angie. Heat crept along her neck as she was greeted by the doorman, approached the elevator and pressed for the penthouse. She was rarely nervous on missions; just the familiar surge of adrenaline keying up her body, senses heightened, muscles loosening, a tightly wound bundle of explosive energy but this was a completely different sensation.

  
She felt butterflies in her stomach.

  
As she let herself into the apartment, she was greeted with the sound of jazz blaring from one of radios in the living room. She entered slowly, a smile crossing her face at the sight of Angie two stepping along in her barefeet and the dress she’d been wearing when they arrived. She gingerly balanced a glass of bourbon in her left hand, ice tinkling around the amber liquid. As she spun, she stopped in shock at the sight of Peggy leaning against the couch, a broad smile on her face. “Jeeze Peg!” her hand flew to her heart, clutching her chest dramatically. “I didn’t hear you…” she immediately lowered the volume and crossed the room in five quick strides, an impressive feat considering the room’s size, grinning as she climbed onto the couch, resting on her knees. She took a slow sip of her drink, crinkling her nose with the burn. “Didn’t think it was that loud…”  
“Bourbon tends to dull the senses…” Peggy joked, nodding toward the glass in Angie’s hand.

  
“I dunno, I don’t feel so dull…” Angie grinned, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively. “I probably shouldn’t have but on account of our good fortune and the fact that Howard…Mr. Stark…has such great taste in music and booze…” she shrugged, leaning back onto the couch and stretching her legs out in front of her. “Sure beats schnapps.”

  
“I was growing fond of it actually…” Peggy replied, with a tilt of her head.

  
“It was me you were growing fond of…” Angie replied theatrically.

  
“Perhaps.”

  
“Say, what’s in the bags…?” Angie’s eyes narrowed with mock suspicion, trying to peer into the bags without much success.

  
“Dinner.” Peggy replied simply, remembering the groceries and heading off into the foyer, trying to see if she remembered the layout.  
“Kitchen’s the other way…” Angie offered, sliding off the couch and looping her arm through Peggy’s. “Allow me…He’s got an icebox I’d SWEAR is from the future.”

Angie was unsurprisingly helpful in the kitchen as she puttered around helping Peggy familiarize herself with the layout. “My ma says that every kitchen should be built around the chef…are we getting a chef too?”

  
“Probably not.”

  
“Aw.”  
“What? Do you think I’m incapable of cooking?” Peggy asked with surprise.

  
“You spent an awful lot of time in the Automat…the food ain’t that good.”

  
“True but the service is exceptional.”

  
“Flattery.” Angie warned, swatting at Peggy’s arm as she unpacked the bags and quickly put things away. “What’re you thinking of making anyhow?”  
Peggy stopped inspecting one of the drawers and turned to face Angie as she closed the icebox. “I haven’t the faintest idea.”

  
“You know what always works for me? Meatloaf.”

  
Peggy raised her eyebrow. “Is that a suggestion or a request?”  
“Can you make it?”

“I’m certain there’s a cookbook somewhere in here…” Peggy took to looking around the kitchen again, certain that there had to be some kind of manual in a shelf.  
“There’s ground beef in the icebox, find me some breadcrumbs…and some eggs.” Angie grumbled, bumping Peggy’s hip with a wink as she dug around the pantry. “Dinner is on me.”

Peggy set two places side by side in the dining room, she was careful not to over do it as they would have to wash the dishes and she was determined to handle that portion of the evening considering Angie had done the cooking. She couldn’t help the way her heart skipped as Angie entered, a large bowl filled with meatballs and spaghetti steaming between her gloved hands. “That smells immaculate…” Peggy cooed as Angie set the bowl down before their places on the table.

  
Angie shrugged. “No big deal…” she rounded the table and kissed Peggy’s cheek softly before looping her right around Peggy’s waist and pulling her closer for a kiss. “It’s the least I could do…” She hesitantly pulled away, undoing her apron and tossing it on the back of her chair. She pulled out Peggy’s seat and kissed the top of her head as she sat, helping her scoot in. “Okay, so, I had to kinda rush it a little bit on account of the bourbon making my stomach a little funny but this is really good with a red wine and while I know I shouldn’t mix my cocktails like some floozie, I figure I’m home, I’m safe and we’re celebrating.” She made a big show of loading Peggy’s plate with saucy noodles and meatballs, forgetting that not everyone covered their plates the way a good Italian meal did. “I’ve gotta get the garlic bread out of the oven, so, don’t eat anything yet, ok?” Peggy chuckled as Angie disappeared again for a moment, the music suddenly louder and reappeared as if by magic with a plate loaded with buttery garlic bread and a bottle of red wine. She poured out two glasses and handed Peggy her glass. “A toast to whatever comes next.” Angie said simply, clinking their glasses together. She held Peggy’s gaze intently as they took sips, letting the wine rest on their pallets. Peggy had to admit, Angie did have great taste in wines.

  
They had dinner in silence, stealing glances at each other as they ate. Angie slurped the pasta, sauce staining her chin as she had a particularly long noodle dangling from pursed lips. Peggy couldn’t resist as she leaned forward and stole a kiss, giggling as Angie struggled to keep from letting out a belly laugh. Peggy had no idea it would be this simple, that it could be so easy to fall into a natural routine with someone. She watched as Angie ran her bread across the sauce, popping it into her mouth, her cheeks puffed as she chewed. They had eaten meals together dozens of times before, hidden in Angie’s bedroom drinking cheap liquor and giggling about whatever it is a slightly drunken conversation brings about but this time felt like the first in what could be a long time of happiness for them both. There were still a million things about Angie that Peggy didn’t know and there were things about herself she hadn’t told a soul, but as she watched Angie humming along to the all to loud radio, she felt like she could tell her everything and not feel a heavy sense of judgment. Peggy was staring at Angie’s profile, lost in her thoughts before green eyes swam back into her full view, Angie’s voice breaking her reverie.

  
“You okay?” Angie’s hand was warm as she reached for Peggy’s, holding her tightly.  
Peggy nodded, an awkward grin tugging at the corners of her mouth. “Sorry…just…I’m alright.”

  
“You talk too much.” Angie grinned, pulling Peggy’s hand up to her lips and kissing her knuckles softly.

They cleared the table, Angie dancing around Peggy as she packed away the leftovers as Peggy started washing the dishes. “Those can wait…” Angie said, pulling Peggy in for a dance. They danced in the middle of the kitchen, Peggy careful to not step on Angie’s toes. The music slowed and Peggy pulled Angie closer, tucking her face into the crook of Angie’s neck.

  
“You okay…?” Angie asked, her arms tightening around Peggy’s waist. Despite the slight difference in height, Peggy fit comfortably against Angie.  
Peggy nodded, straightening up and offering a small tight-lipped smile. “Perfectly fine.”

  
“Is this a lot for a first night?” Angie asked, studying the far off look in Peggy’s gaze.  
“No.”

  
“Peggy.” The tone was so unlike Angie, she felt as though she was being scolded.

  
Peggy met Angie’s gaze, holding it before blinking back tears. “It’s been a lovely evening so far…” She swallowed the lump forming in her throat. “I hope we’re having more just like it…”

  
“Well of course we are.” Angie replied matter of factly, her right hand cupping Peggy’s cheek, her thumb gently stroking away an errant tear. “Every night until I get sick of cooking or you learn how.”

  
Peggy let out a laugh, pulling Angie in for a hug, hiding her face in the crook of Angie’s neck again and swaying slowly to the music until a commercial jingle for something came on. They stayed in place, Angie’s hand gently rubbing Peggy’s back until Peggy straightened up again. “The dishes aren’t going to wash themselves.”

  
“Oh sure they can.” Angie replied, “Well, there’s a machine that does it.”

  
“What?” Peggy asked, feeling a little silly for questioning the existence of such a device in Howard Stark’s home.

  
Angie rolled her eyes, taking Peggy’s hand and leading her towards the counter. She pulled down a latch and a small door opened. “You load everything in here and it’ll do it for you. He’s got a washing machine and a dishwasher. Honestly, do you even know what Howard Stark does?” Angie teased. She began loading their dishes into the machine, completely aware that although it didn’t involve actual work it was still Peggy’s responsibility to clean up after dinner. “You’re supposed to be doing this part, by the way.”

  
“I have no idea how to use that contraption.”

  
Angie straightened up, her mouth puckered with sarcasm. “I’m doing it with no problem, see? It’s not like you’re diffusing a bomb…which…you’ve probably done.”

  
Peggy nodded smugly, leaning against the counter with her arms folded. “Several times.”

  
Angie chuckled as she loaded the last dish into the machine, closed the door and pressed the button. They could hear water rushing in, a dull hum and suddenly silence. Angie tilted her head toward the door, eyes scanning as she waited to hear more machinery. “Is it on?”  
“You’re the one who wanted to use the bloody thing.”

  
Angie narrowed her eyes again and shook her head. “Well, if it breaks, atleast we know a guy who can fix it.”

  
“I have an idea, none of which involving kitchenware. Or Howard Stark.”

  
Angie’s heart stuttered as she caught Peggy’s gaze, her tone honey thick. “Details…” Angie breathed, suddenly very much intrigued by Peggy’s sudden change in tone. She dried her hands on a nearby towel, suddenly very flustered.

  
“A guided tour of the mansion?”

  
“Oh. Yeah. Sure.” Angie replied, her cheeks scarlet as she reached for Peggy’s hand and pulled her from the kitchen into a hall that lead towards the bedrooms. “So Shoulders wasn’t kidding about the eight rooms…”

  
“Why would he?”

  
Angie shrugged. “You know guys like to exaggerate.” She pointed out some of the rooms, never opening the doors before stopping in front of one door, turning and taking both of Peggy’s hands in hers. “I found one that I really, really like…”

  
“Well, you didn’t show me the other ones so I’ve nothing to compare it to.”

  
“That’s kinda the point.” Angie replied, opening the door and pulling Peggy in with her. She stood just in the doorway as Peggy entered and took in the sight of the bedroom. A large four-poster bed was to her left, to the right a walk in closet where two pieces of luggage sat on the floor behind her was a master bath and in front of her was a large window overlooking the city. It was much larger than the room Howard showed her before she moved into The Griffith. “I figured, since we’d been spending so much time together at The Griffith what was the harm in shacking up in a much better situation…”

  
Peggy looked down and found her boots by the foot of the bed. “You remembered…”

  
“Well. I figured there was a reason you always kept them right by the bed. And don’t worry I didn’t touch the gun in the lock box. Peggy chuckled as Angie approached from behind, wrapping her arms around Peggy’s waist and kissing her shoulder. “Kinda feels like home, doesn’t it?  
“It does now.”

 

It was late by the time Angie finished with her shower as Peggy unpacked her bag, settling her things into the drawers of the walk in closet. Angie convinced Peggy they should finish the wine and as her glass sat on a coaster on the nightstand, Peggy couldn’t help the smile on her face as she heard Angie singing in the bathroom. After padding around the rest of the mansion, Angie figured out that Howard had a stereo system of connected speakers around the house, allowing control of the radio and record player from anywhere. She was grinning ear to ear as she sashayed around the mansion, clutching the wine bottle and beckoning Peggy back to the bedroom. Peggy took advantage of the shower first and had already slipped into her nightgown, finishing her routine. She removed the bandages, her ribs still sore from the fight but she wasn’t worse for the wear. Her chin was still tender and the bruising was more prominent but she figured, an ice regimen before bed and she’d be back to normal. Angie emerged from the bathroom, clad in a plush bathrobe, her hair wrapped in a towel. “You’re all done?” she asked, her face scrunched up. She shook her hair into her towel, drying it off before tying it into a bun. She looked like a freshly scrubbed ballerina. 

  
“Didn’t have much to unpack I’m afraid.” Peggy replied with a shrug.

  
“Oh because I’ve got a whole fleet of luggage to go through…” Angie teased, swatting at Peggy with the belt from her robe. “I can’t have my silks next to my cottons and there simply has to be an order my things or I shall be most insufferable…” she teased with a heavy southern drawl.  
“I already sorted your things.” Peggy said with a shrug, nodding towards the opposite set of drawers. “Threw them wherever.”

  
“You touched my unmentionables?”  
“That I did.”

  
“And I wasn’t even in them. What a waste.” Angie said, eyes lit with mischief as she shook her head. She took the blush on Peggy’s cheeks as a compliment. “Say, I never did go to the balcony…you know, where we can dine alfresco…I wanted to save it so we can see it together.”  
“Angie, it’s eleven at night.”

  
“Yeah well, you’re a night owl and I’m too keyed up to even think about sleeping, so, c’mon.” she grabbed Peggy’s hand and pulled her out of the closet. They navigated the halls side by side like two intrepid explorers their fingers interlocked as Angie lead the way. She had somehow figured out the layout of the mansion, the gadgets Howard had stashed everywhere and still maintained an air of surprise as she lead them out onto the open patio. “Wow…” she breathed, taking in the furniture, the awning that covered a table and lounge chairs and long seats that, had it be daylight, would be perfect for sunbathing. “Remind me to thank Mr. Stark for his generosity.” She moved towards the ledge and looked down. “Holy cow. Peggy, c’mere…”

  
Peggy approached and looked down, watching a cable car and taxi go by on the street below. “Won’t be climbing this…” she muttered to herself. Angie chuckled and bumped Peggy’s shoulder with hers.

  
“What’s the matter, scared of heights?”

  
“Not at all. It’s the fall that’s unpleasant.”

  
Angie took a moment, pushing back from the ledge and taking one of seats nearby. “Have you ever?”

  
“Have I ever what?” Peggy asked, leaning against the ledge, studying Angie in the moonlight.

  
“Fallen.” The duality of the meaning hung heavy between them. Angie’s face was filled with questions and she wanted to ask them simply, one at a time, or wait until Peggy started opening up but the wine had her feeling bolder than usual and the fact that they had all this space between them to just be only served to fuel the confidence she was feeling. Angie knew she meant falling from a perch but she felt like she meant something else. Peggy’s face was neutral, guarded as though she was trying to decipher which meaning Angie was seeking. Peggy was a superhero to Angie and she wished one of those powers she had involved mind reading.

  
“I have. In boot camp, I lost my grip on the rope climbing the wall and landed flat on my bum.” Peggy replied, watching the crestfallen look that crept across Angie’s features.

  
“Ouch.” Angie replied with a shiver. “I almost broke my arm once. Climbing a tree. I was playing Robin Hood with some boys and they said Maid Marian couldn’t climb a tree. So I did.” She shrugged, tucking her legs underneath her and pulling her hands into the sleeves of the robe.  
“Are you cold?” Peggy asked, pushing off from the ledge and sidling up to Angie. Despite the warm May night, she was still in her nightgown and robe and little else.

  
“Not really.” Angie replied coyly. “Got warm all of a sudden.”

  
She took Angie’s hand in hers, pulling her up from the chair bringing them face to face. Peggy leaned in slowly, brushing her lips against Angie’s tentatively, wondering if this was the other meaning to fallen Angie was seeking. Angie met Peggy’s mouth softly, her hands immediately looping around Peggy’s shoulders, pulling her closer, deepening their contact. Peggy broke the kiss, pressing her forehead to Angie’s, a small smile on her lips. “Let’s head back inside.” Music greeted them as they walked back to the bedroom, Angie shutting off the lights as they walked along. “You were really meant for this lifestyle.” Peggy teased watching Angie gleefully shutting off lights.

  
“What? This? Nah, I’m just nosy.” Angie winked as they approached the bedroom. “Although, if I spend more time with you, I’m pretty confident I can pick up your accent and make myself a duchess or something.”

  
“You’re already royalty to me.” Peggy replied simply. “Besides, titles don’t mean anything if you already know your own value.”

  
Angie stopped short, her mouth slightly agape as processed Peggy’s words. She pulled Peggy closer, kissing her quickly before stepping back, clutching Peggy’s fingertips. “You’re really sweet on me.”

  
“Perhaps.”  
Angie grinned. “I’m feeling a little sleepy…”

  
“Are you?” Peggy asked, following Angie as she back peddled into the bedroom. “I thought you were too keyed up to sleep.”

  
“Well, I am but…” she shrugged. “Present company has quite the calming effect on me.”

  
“Really.”

  
Angie nodded. “Besides, I know you had a long day and you’ve been favoring your right side more than usual. How’re the ribs feeling?” She held Peggy’s gaze, a know it all look of concern on her features.

  
“Not as bad as they were last night.” Peggy admitted with guilt in her voice.

  
“Well, we’re not sleeping on that cracker mattress back in The Griffith anymore, so your ribs will recover nicely. I promise I won’t squeeze you too hard.” Angie replied with flourish as she turned down the quilt and sheets. She fluffed up the pillows, stacking them upright and patting Peggy’s side of the bed.

  
Peggy couldn’t help but laugh as she climbed into bed, gingerly positioning herself at an angle against the pillows. It wasn’t going to be comfortable position to sleep in, but she immediately felt better as she relaxed. Angie turned the lights out and climbed in next to her, shimmying closer under the covers, looping her arm gently across Peggy’s torso. “Good?”

  
Peggy nodded as Angie settled into her pillow, her head near Peggy’s shoulder. She let out a sigh of contentment as Peggy’s fingertips trailed along the back of her forearm, idling tracing patterns across her skin. “Why do you sleep with boots by the bed?” Angie asked, her voice muffled against her pillow. She was staring up at Peggy, watching the shadows across her face.

  
“Military training. Always prepared for anything.”

  
Angie nodded, moving closer. “So you’d say that you are prepared for anything?”

  
“Within reason yes. There’s room for the unexpected.”

  
“Good.” She leaned over and planted a kiss on Peggy’s cheek. “Get some rest.”

 

 

Angie rolled over in her sleep, her back toward Peggy, who still managed to follow her closely, her arm looped around her hip. She shifted, looking up and over Peggy’s shoulder towards the clock on the nightstand. She squinted in the dark, trying to see the time. It was still dark out but she could hear the sound of birds waking somewhere. She moved closer to Peggy, spooning her and kissing her right shoulder, her lips feather light against the healed bullet wounds. She moved her right arm from Peggy’s hip, her fingertips brushing against the scars, tracing them with her fingers. She moved back a bit, studying Peggy’s back, tracing the visible patches of skin delicately, fingertips finding small scars along her skin. The hem of Peggy’s nightgown shifted, exposing her lower back. Angie braced herself, her fingertips trailing along the dip in her spine, shivering at the contact. This was intimacy, this moment where the night had given way to dawn, where their contact wasn’t subject to scrutiny or to whispers. Peggy was sleeping, comfortable and safe in bed with her despite the battle fatigue she claimed she didn’t have. Angie would watch her from time to time, eyeing exits, watching people’s movements, putting herself between Angie and perceived danger. She always chalked it up to her military experience and current position with the SSR but it seemed to be engrained in her from something else; a sense of protective nobility that kept her moving when normal people would’ve taken a moment to collect themselves. Peggy was good natured and sarcastic, she wore her suits the way a knight wore armor, making her seem untouchable and cold until she made a joke and a smile would brighten her face. That’s what always endeared Angie to her, how she could laugh in danger’s face and still maintain her charm. Angie knew she was a goner the moment Peggy defended her with a fork, _a fork_ , at the Automat. _This jerk quite fancies you_. She propped herself up on her elbow, studying Peggy as she slept, her fingertips continued trailing along Peggy’s lower back tracing shapes before she shifted to letters.

  
I.  
L.  
O.  
V.  
E.  
Y.  
O.  
U.

She wrote it over and over again, in cursive, in big letters, small letters, professing something as large as this along the planes of Peggy’s back like a secret. She left small kisses along her shoulder, the base of her neck, the spot between her shoulder blades, her lips lingering over the twin scars on Peggy's right shoulder. She had always dreamt of a moment like this, curled up against someone who was good to her as she felt she deserved. She watched Peggy sleep sometimes, whenever the moody Brit decided to stay over and always found the sight miraculous somehow. She would go off and come home all banged up from whatever it was spies got into and sit casually in dining room as though nothing happened. It was something to admire, the way Peggy lit up a room. Angie wanted to say it, she’d been feeling the sensation coiling around her heart for quite some time, stealing glances, the sting of jealousy whenever Jarvis was around. She felt it tighten when she had been arrested. How unfair was it that they would meet, that she would feel the world start to make sense and then have it snatched from her. It felt so tragic, like every play and novel she’d read and then as if by some miracle, Peggy returned to her. If it wasn’t love, she wasn’t sure what it was and she wouldn’t give it any other name.  
Peggy shifted, carefully rolling onto her back, eyes heavy with sleep. “What’re you doing awake?” she asked, her voice raspy from sleep. She squinted up at Angie, blinking a few times.

  
“Just popped up, I’m alright.”

  
“Are you sure?” Peggy asked, suddenly alert.

  
“Yeah I’m sure, go back to sleep.” Angie replied tucking herself back against Peggy, draping her arm across her torso again.  
“I love you too.” Peggy whispered, kissing the top of Angie’s head.

  
Angie stirred. “How did…” her heart slammed in her chest as she sat up, embarrassed.

  
“I’m a code breaker by trade, Angie.” Peggy pushed up slowly, an eyebrow arched with confidence.  
“Yeah but it wasn’t morse code or something…”

  
Peggy reached for Angie’s right hand, spelling out I love you slowly, deliberately drawing each letter with her fingertip on Angie’s palm, eyes on Angie as she stared back in surprise. She chuckled and kissed Angie’s palm. “Might as well have been.”

  
Angie blushed.

  
“Do you mean it?”

  
“Mean what?”

  
Angie gestured with her palm.

  
“Of course I do. Do _you_ mean it?”

  
They sat still for a moment, staring at each other as though they’d never seen anyone quite like them before. Hearts banging against ribs and stomachs flipping with anxiety; Peggy had never felt so anxious before while Angie hadn’t felt so scared. Angie moved carefully, taking Peggy’s face in her hands and kissing her softly. “Couldn’t fake it if I tried.”


End file.
